The Sweet Taste of Freedom

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 I'm just so angry. So, so angry. Fury burns in my veins as the edges of my vision go red. A portion of my strength has returned with more coming back with each passing second, and I plan to make use of part it. Rex growls, digging his claws into the stone as he tenses beside me. "Get them." The Wasteland guard's voice is tightly controlled and his teeth are gritted in an attempt to hide his emotions, but I still catch the glimpse of fear that flashes across his eyes. Noooo. He's sending the Click 2.0 after us. I silently curse as the Click 2.0 turns their crazed gaze to us. Patches of blood orange and red flicker across their hollow eyes, sometimes there and other times not. "Get. Them. Now," The Wasteland guard repeats. I hold my hands out in front of me, what's hopefully a sign I won't hurt them.

The Click 2.0 lunges, jaws open wide and claws flashing as they lash out. Their teeth snap shut only an inch or two away from me. Bile rises in my throat as I catch the smell of their breath. I duck underneath their next attack, and jump backwards from their next one. What am I supposed to do? It's not like I can fight back- they're another one of Guthrie Harper's victims. The Click 2.0's tail comes swinging around, light glinting in the torchlight. I take another step backwards.

After what feels like an eternity of dodging attacks but making none of my own, the lead Wasteland guard signs in frustration. "I've had enough of this. Get the Click 2.0." What? They're just giving up? That's unusual. Two of his friends haul a heavy looking collar and clamp it around the Click 2.0's neck. Spikes rest against their skin. One of the Wasteland guards gives a sharp tug on the chain he's holding, and the spikes dig into the Click 2.0's flesh, drawing droplets of blood. The howl that follows echoes throughout the prison. Rex reacts first, launching himself at Wasteland guards holding onto the chains. The first one goes down without any resistance. The second is prepared, and he cuffs my Blended form around the ear, sending him sprawling against the wall. While the Wasteland guards are busy with Rex, I work on undoing the collar. Hawk, what exactly are you doing? Freeing the Click 2.0. What does it look like I'm doing? What are you going to do when they're free? You're stuck in Guthrie Harper's prison. My fingers still as I stop moving, and I tilt my head to one side. Fair point. I still want to though. When I find the latch, the Click 2.0 stiffens, their breathing quickening yet again. The collar goes limp before falling off. The Click 2.0 turns their head, looking at me with a curious, but uneasy expression.

Rex, having gotten to his paws, wrestles the other Wasteland guard who had been holding onto the Click 2.0 to the ground. After finishing him off, he looks for his next opponent, but all the remaining Wasteland guards are on the other side of the bars.

The lead Wasteland guard curses. "Come on. We've got to go." He pulls the nearest Wasteland guard into motion as he breaks into a run, but stops after taking only a few short strides.

"What about the Click 2.0?"

"Leave it. We don't have time. If we don't get there soon enough, we're going to have a much bigger problem than just a missing Click 2.0 on our hands." The look he gives the other Wasteland guards conveys some message I can't decipher.

"Really? Oh, no. This isn't going to be pretty. We'd better get going now before things get too out of hand." What the hell are they talking about? They haven't given any information for the others to have any idea what they're talking about! They're Wasteland guards who know more about things about this place than you do. Fair point. Fair point. But still, what the hell are they talking about? Your guess is as good as mine. When the Wasteland guards all disappear down the hallway, they leave the Click 2.0 with me and Rex locked in the cell.

The Click 2.0 turns to us, moving as far away as possible until they're pressed up against the stone. I let the collar fall to the ground before kicking it so it's laying in the middle of the hallway. "Hawk," Sarah starts.

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